Maleficus, Mei Archos
by Loka Hask
Summary: Inquisitor Luthor Otonna has to make a choice. Does he continue the Emperor's work, or does he battle his own evils that continue to destroy him from within? Chapter 1 so far, more to come. Please R&R.
1. Mei Judicium

This story is based off of works from Games-Workshop. I do not claim to own these works, only to have used them as a basis for my own work.

"Maleficus, Mei Archos"

By Andrew Carlson

One: "Mei Judicium"

There is nothing more fragile than the human mind. It floats inside its throne of flesh and bone, content that what may harm it lies only on the outside.

We need not fear what lies without when fear itself is the true assassin, destroying reasoning and common-sense. Deadlier still is what comes in the aftermath. Thoughts. Thousands, millions, trillions of thoughts. All of them 'what ifs' and 'maybes'. The lure of a 'what if' can destroy a man's resolve. The dominance of a 'maybe' can purge a man of common sense. These… 'what ifs' and 'maybes' open doors to the heretical; the man will think of things he had never thought of before. Greed and betrayal will become necessary, at first only a tool, and eventually the goal itself. 

A man's ideals can twist in many ways. I have witnessed it all around me, even among my peers in the Inquisition.

When a man such as myself devotes his life to hunting and purging the heretical, daemonic, and sinister, he can often neglect to recognise the very same evils within himself. When the time comes (if he is lucky enough to have it come at all) that he realizes his own evils, he must choose: purge himself of his own evils, letting the evil without grow and fester as it runs unchecked, or suppress his own faults and stay loyal to his task bestowed apon him by the God-Emperor himself.

What choice did I make? To this day I am still unsure. Perhaps it is my own uncertainty that lead to this madness, my unwillingness to commit to one decision my undoing. 

And so there I lay on the cold deck plating of my personal cruiser, warp energy crackling all around me. My throne of flesh and bone defiled, I stared blankly at the bulkhead as the new ruler took its place within its temple of grey matter. It wasn't much different, I noted, except for a few small yet important points. Points I couldn't identify directly, but like any unseen but familiar form, I knew they were there. Slowly, I pulled my haggard form up off of the cold deck, raising my eyes up slowly to the leather seat in front of me, and then the star field beyond the cock pit control panel. The seat was swivelled to face me, and vaguely I could remember falling out of it. 

Slowly, like a neophyte taking his first steps after genetic enhancement, I moved forward. My hand outstretched toward the seat, I found purchase and slid into it comfortably. As I cautiously swivelled the chair around to face the vast void of space, I could feel the invisible flow of the warp around me, still dispersing from the painful ordeal.

The thought that there must have been pain intrigued me; I had no recollection of what had happened, nor did I feel pain at the moment. Nevertheless, I _knew _that pain had been involved. In fact, pain was the focal point apon which the whole ordeal was initiated.

I moved my fingers over the panels, punching keys one by one. I soon determined my coordinates and found that I was more than a light year from my best educated guess, the Eternus system. I remembered leaving there only days before, but it suddenly ocurred to me that I had no idea how long I had been passed out on the deck. Quickly I consulted the chronometer and with a quick intake of breath, I blinked.

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8-432634.M41.

Nearly a standard month since last I checked the date.

In a blur, my hand was apon my face, inspecting my chin. No facial hair was evident, save for the sideburns that extended down my jaw line. My body had not suffered the effects of such a length of time, yet the chronometer told me I had spent nearly a month face down on the deck of my ship.

Wearily, I placed my hands on the control panel again and punched in the coordinates for the Eternus system. The plasma engines hummed to life, the deck plates beginning to reverberate underneath my boots quietly. Slowly but surely the star field shifted as the ship changed course, and the primal roar of the plasma engines deepened as the ship sped forward.

Eventually the warp energies dispersed, and I shuddered as I suddenly felt very alone in the cold void. 


	2. Obscurum Sempiterna

Two: "Obscurum Sempiterna"
    
    Eternus was not just a name. Its rotation 200 times slower than Terra's, the days and nights on this Emperor-forsaken planet were longer than its revolutions around its sun. This left the land scorched and dry during the day and bitter cold during the night. The mineral deposits deep within the crust, however, was enough to make the less sane members of the human race flock to it. Settlements were made, but it was soon discovered that not even designs of the Adeptus Mechanicus could withstand the harsh environs of Eternus. The settlements were abandoned, leaving behind the dregs of society who simply weren't worth saving: mutants, heretics, and criminals. For hundreds of years it was believed that they had simply died without the resources to maintain the settlements. Recent investigation, however, discovered that the remaining populace moved underground, and an extensive labyrinth of tunnels had been formed. Without Imperial Authorities to stem the tide of mutants and criminals, they grew rampant, with a 20% mutant birth rate. A feudal system of government soon developed among the condemned, warlords arrising and taking what they wished.

The planet was labeled as a Dead world, and contact with the planet was forbidden. An Imperial garrison was assigned to a space station orbiting Eternus, however, to stop any attempts of the condemned to leave the planet.

As my cruiser entered the atmosphere, I gazed silently at the sensors. Fighters had been scrambled from the space station, but when they came within sensor range (my own sensors were far superior to theirs) they identified my ship and immediately returned to base. It was no surprise, as it was a simple procedure. An Inquisitor was not questioned, and was denied access from nothing.

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Even if they had questioned you, they would have been no match.

I dismissed the thought as quickly as it had entered my mind, and pushed forward on the control stick. The cruiser went into a sharp dive, and the hull protested noisily as the atmosphere battered it. Greyish-black clouds whipped past the viewport at frightening speeds as I fell like a rock. Eventually I broke through the cloud cover, and the night-side of Eternus was made visible to me. The sprawling landscape was barren, made up entirely of broken cliffs and grey-black plains of stone. In the distance I could see the shattered sky-line of an ancient settlement, and forced my cruiser to slow its decent, and pushed forward toward it. As the ship leveled out, the stress eased off of it and it protested no more.

After touching down and arming myself with my duelling blade and combat shotgun—both blessed by the Grand Artificer himself—I made my way down the gang plank and into the fallen city. The elements had reduced it to simply tall decaying spires of permacrete, but I did not cast my eyes upwards. Instead, my deep red Inquisititorial robes flowing behind me, I made my way across a rubble-strewn square and down a dark alley. The night was eerily silent, and there was no wind. A hint of light near the end of the alley told me that I was headed in the right direction. I gripped my shotgun tightly as I stepped forward, every sense in my mind telling me to turn around. Still I stepped forward, my ears perked and my finger sitting solidly on the trigger. 

Gangs ran rampant, preying on anyone foolish enough to go to the surface. I knew I was being watched, but had trouble discovering from where. If they wanted something, they would come. I would be ready.
    
    The light was coming from a hole in the wall of a building, and carefully I peaked inside. The floor of the building had been excavated out, and a deep tunnel disappeared into the depths of the crust, moving downward at a steady angle. There was no one present, and the light came from glowing poles bolted into the stone ground. I stepped forward, knowing that someone--some_thing_--was waiting for me.

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Behind you.
    
    In a flash I turned and pulled the trigger of my shotgun before I could even identify what it was that was following me.

A man, about 9 centimeters taller than I with a dark complexion, flew backward as the phosphorus shell exploded into his chest. His skin and clothing burst into flame before he even hit the ground, and as he lay there writhing, gasping for breath and clutching his burning chest, I stepped up next to him. Without a thought I kicked the loaded auto pistol from his hand, and looked at his anguish-wracked face. "As you die, look into my eyes. You'll see no compassion, no sorrow. Your death will not be remembered, nor will your life. Think on how your life was spent in vain, and ask the Emperor what you can do to amend for it. Your death will not be avenged. Pray to the Emperor for forgiveness." I stared at him for another moment, watching as the angish slowly left his face and his features relaxed. "In death, we are all judged."

"You'll be next then!"

I had only a second to process those words before the permacrete wall next to me exploded. I jumped backwards, fell into a roll, and propped myself up on my elbows as I pulled the trigger on my shotgun. A man with a missile launcher had appeared from the tunnel, and was frantically loading another projectile into his crude weapon when the shotgun slug hit him in the arm. He dropped the projectile and gripped his arm, screaming in pain and flailing around as his arm burst into flames. He stopped and his eyes widened as he realized that he had dropped the projectile directly on its nose. With a shocked look, he glanced down at it just in time to catch the blast full in the face. His scorched body flew backwards into the tunnel, from which I could hear more voices. 

Three more men emerged down the alleyway behind me, two armed with autoguns and one armed with a heavy stubber. Bullets whizzed passed me as they ran forward, carelessly blazing their guns without aiming. I threw myself against the wall next to me, listening to the slugs scream by as I flicked the shot selecter from Hellfire to Man-stopper. These were solid-core rounds that did not fragment, or explode. The massive slugs created a large mess when they hit, smashing through flesh and bone alike. The heavy stubber rattled off a few rounds close to me, and permacrete peppered my face. For a moment hings were quiet, and I heard the sounds of empt carbines clunking against the ground.

Using the moment to my advantage, I tore myself from my cover, squeezing off as many shots as possible. One slug glanced off of one gunner's jaw, hitting hard enough to blow the lower have of his face apart. What was remaining of his head snapped backward, and his gun flew into the air as his lifeless form flung backward like a puppet with its strings cut. Another ripped through the other's leg, blowing it clean in two. The gunner teetered for a moment, then fell over. The ganger wielding the heavy stubber had been smart enough to duck behind some refuse while reloading, and was unharmed.

Over the screaming of the one-legged ganger, I could hear the voices growing louder from the tunnels. Swiftly, I slung my shotgun over my back and drew my sword. I flung myself over the screaming ganger, and dashed around the refuse pile to find the ganger with the heavy stubber struggling to load a new carbine in. He had only a moment to glance up and see me before the point of my sword was through his neck and burried into the bricks behind him. He looked at me with rage filled eyes as blood poured from his mouth and the wound. I returned his gaze with a cold stare as I yanked the sword from his neck, letting his body slump to the ground. 

I stood, staring toward the tunnel opening. Forms began to emerge, and as I reached to pull out my shotgun, I felt something impact my back that brought back memories of a brawl with an ogryn. I gasped as I stumbled forward, my hands flailing forward to find something to grab on to. I found nothing, and crashed hard into the cold ground. I rolled over to see five more gangers at the opening of the alleyway, one of them holding a smoking stubber. The slug had hit me square in the back, but fortunately the carapace beneath my robes held up. Still winded, I sluggishly lifted my hand to my back, attempting to pull out my shotgun. It was then that I vaguely remembered it spinning out of my hand when I was shot. I pushed myself backwards as the gangers advanced on me, thinking hard on what I could do. 

Coldy the gangers laughed as they approached me, grinning ferally as the aimed. I gritted my teeth and uttered a silent prayer to the Emperor. If he let me live, I would send him five fresh souls to punish for the rest of eternity.

Without warning, one of the gangers' chests exploded, spraying blood and bone over me and his comrades. He slumped to the ground, a bewildered look on his face. The other gangers, more startled than anything, watched their fallen comrade bleed from a gaping wound in his chest. Suddenly another's chest exploded, then another. I could hear the sound of stubbers cracking behind me, and looked over my shoulder. The voices in the tunnel had belonged to the shooters. They were clad in black robes with red insignia embroidered on them. The last ganger, having seen enough, dropped his weapon and turned. 

I growled as I rolled to my feet, grabbed my own shotgun and pointed it at him. The man-stopper slammed into his lower back, literally seperating his upper half from his lower half. His torso flew up into the air, arms flailing, as his legs continued to run for a second before stumbling and collapsing to the ground. I slid my smoking shotgun into my holster as I surveyed the blood-soaked alleyway.

"Seems we arrived just in time."

I turned to address the speaker. He was a middle-aged man, and was toting what looked like a custom-built stubber. "Indeed. Are you what passes for the authorities in this area?"

The man nodded as he looked back at his other companions. "Yeah. The names Garrick Kleis. We try to keep the peace around here," he craned his neck to peer into the alleyway, "but it doesn't always work that way."

I grunted my agreement as I swept passed him. "I need passage through the underground rivers."

Kleis fell in step behind me as we made our way into the tunnel. "We don't get many strangers around here, especially ones demanding passage through our rivers."

"I'm not a stranger. I'm the only Imperial Agent insane enough to visit this Emperor-forsaken planet on a regular basis."

"Imperial Agent? Figures. They send you down from the station?"

"Hardly. No one 'sends' me anywhere. I am a member of the Emperor's Holy Order of the Inquisition. My name is Luthor Otonna." I flashed him my badge of office, the gold insignia of the Inquisition.

Kleis grew quiet. "Inquisition, eh? So I suppose you've come to whipe us out finally." He said it with a touch of humour, but I could sense the fear in his words.

"That's not why I'm here. If it were, you'd all be dead already." I suppose that wasn't any more comforting.

Kleis changed the subject abruptly. "So where do you need passage to?"

"Eastport."

There was an uneasy silence as we made it down through the tunnel. Finally, Kleis spoke. "Eastport?"

"Yes, _Eastport._" I looked over my shoulder at him. "Something wrong?"

"You could say that," he mumbled. He fell in step next to me and lowered his voice. "No one has heard anything from Eastport for about a standard month. No one has come out from there. My own son took twenty men to investigate, and none of them have returned."


End file.
